Some Kind of Fairytale
by Duchess Winna
Summary: The lies are cutting her into pieces every night as she thinks of him and the way he has always accepted her...Ann wants to tell Charlie about the Realms, but doesn't know how.


**Disclaimer: Libba Bray owns these characters; I do not.**

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She wants to tell him the truth; she does. He deserves to know, because he has accepted who she is and loves her for it, and she wants him to be able to love this secret part of her as well.

It's just that the truth is so hard to get out sometimes; whenever she tries it burns her throat until she cannot speak, inevitably postponing the day of honesty until far later. She'll have her resolve set to telling him, and then he'll flash his smile at her and doubts slither like snakes in her mind: what if he doesn't accept her? What he is scared, and rejects her?

The thought is unbearable to her. For someone who has dreamed of true love since she was a little girl, the idea of finding it and then losing it is the cruelest card the world could deal her. She has seen her fair share of lovers torn apart: Gemma and Kartik, Miss McCleethy and Fowlson, Felicity and Pippa. She never wants to experience the pain that they had to go through when their other half left them.

But the lies, too, are cutting her into pieces each night as she thinks of him and the way he has always accepted her before, and she hates herself, just a little, for doubting him, even though what she has seen of the world gives her good reason to doubt everyone in regards to this matter.

She wants to speak to someone about her dilemma who _knows_, but Gemma and Felicity are gone now, and she would feel improper voicing these most private sentiments into a telegram or letter. Besides, she feels as if neither one would truly understand: both of the people they loved were as deeply involved and knowledgeable about the Realms as they were themselves.

It's been six months now since he's kissed her and she thought her heart might burst with happiness on the spot, six months of lies by omission, and that puts an unfair damper on her happiness. She wishes she could disregard her conscience, but she cannot. Perhaps, if it was anyone else, but not Charlie, who has always been incredibly honest and caring toward her, not hesitating to tell her anything she wants to know.

Today, after practice, he fetches her coat and hands it to her. She nods gratefully, not wanting to step outside into the frozen city, coated with snow and barrenness. Inside, it's warm and cozy and he's there, and every extra moment with him is lovely.

"Listen," he says shyly, as he helps her into her coat. "I've been thinking…and I know I don't have too much to offer you, but…" His nervousness shows as he blushes, and she suddenly knows what he's going to say. Her first reaction is pure, unadulterated joy, but then dread overtakes her. She can't; she can't base a marriage on a lie. It will eat at them, she knows, and she cannot let that happen.

He drops to one knee. "Ann, will you marry me?" he asks, all shallow, nervous breathing as he scans her face for a reaction. The tumult of emotions must confuse him, but hopefully he will attribute them to the shock of his proposal. She sees the glint of a ring in his hands, and the shine stings her eyes.

She wants to accept, so desperately. But she can't, not without telling him first. "I don't know," she murmurs.

She doesn't want to see his face fall, any more than she wants to refuse him. He doesn't ask for a reason, but she knows he must be expecting one, so she finally lets it out, before first glancing around to ensure no one is listening. Then she realizes that Charlie would certainly not propose in a room where there were others eavesdropping in.

It's time, and she knows it. Before she can second-guess herself, she blurts out, "There are things that you don't know about me." The words sound so ominous that she knows they must be a sign of foreboding, and she braces herself for the pain that will follow soon.

His eyebrows raise, the look of pain still present on his face. "What are they?" he asks simply. His voice is sad, and it breaks her heart ten times more viciously than it would if he were angry. He is curious, even now, wanting to know more about her. He has always been so interested in her, giving her the confidence to find herself worthwhile as well.

She doesn't think about it, just says it before she loses her nerve. It would be so easy to accept his proposal and never tell him, but she has forsaken the easy, natural route long ago when she first defied her cousins to become an actress. "I journeyed into a world of magic when I was at school," she says, "where my friends and I fought a terrible power that wanted to take over that world and ours. Friends of mine died there, but we did defeat the evil in the end." It sounds so ridiculous when she places it all out there, and she's suddenly afraid it will seem like an elaborate joke, so she adds, "please, please, please believe me," in a desperate tone.

Before, she has always planned it out, and this time she has not; she simply bursts it out, and maybe that's the easiest way after all: no second thoughts, just momentary, strong resolve. She looks away, because she doesn't want to see the fear, either from what she has experienced or fear of a madwoman, jog across his face.

When she finally chances to glance at him, he's looking confused, which she thinks is entirely natural. She bites her lip, twisting her hands together as she waits for him to speak. She notices that he has not backed away from her, and she wishes that he would, just so he can let her grieve in private.

"Magic?" he says, finally.

She nods, meeting his eyes, hoping he can read the truth there. She cannot lie and say it does not burn, to know that this will likely be the last time. She thinks after all these years she should have developed a thicker skin for not being accepted, but she hasn't, at least not with him. She's never had a reason to.

He looks at his feet. "I've always believed in magic, you know. To see it, real magic," he murmurs, to no one. It's a small token, knowing he believes her, and Ann knows she cannot expect anything more.

She feels like she should offer something in return, but she does not know what to say. She wishes she could demonstrate her magic, but there isn't enough of it to create something tangible; it only really enhances the qualities she already has. She wishes she could create something beautiful with the magic that she could offer him, but she thinks that even that would vanish in time. All that is real is that which she feels for him.

She makes to leave, to prevent him the awkwardness of canceling his proposal. She loves him enough to spare them both that discomfort.

"Ann," he tells her as she turns away, and although she is sure she is imagining it, there is such warmth and love in his voice that she is forced to stop. She wishes that she could just go, but her resolve weakens infinitesimally and she turns her head, to look at him with all the wistfulness and yearning in the world.

"I don't know what to think," he confesses. She has to admit that, given the circumstances, he has handled it remarkably well, especially given the extremes of her declaration.

She nods. "I understand."

The ring is still in his hand, she realizes, although his open palm has been clenched to his side. She can still see the jewels peering at her from the spaces between his fingers, and it makes her look away, saddened by what could have been. A weight has been lifted off of her shoulders, but her despair is now unbearable. For all she told herself that she didn't hope, it's untrue. She had all the hopes in the world, and if she is being perfectly honest, she still has hopes now.

He looks at her, and she glances at his expression, afraid of what she might see. His face is conflicted, but the predominant emotion is still devotion, caring, love.

"But…if that's all…?" He sounds unsure, as if afraid to ask for more. Her eyes widen. "I mean, if you don't to marry me I understand, but if this is what's holding you back…" He breaks off, trying to read her expression as if he can tell whether staying silent or continuing would be a better course of action at this point. "Yes, this is hard for me to understand, but I'll learn to, if you'll let me. You're still you, Ann. We'll figure it out." His palm stretches out, little by little, until the ring is held out to her again, temptation.

"There's so much more," she whispers, but it falls flat somehow, not as despairing as she would have liked it to come across. There is too much beautiful disbelief and returning of hope. "But if you want to know…"

"I would," he says, a smile coming across his face, the smile that she loves, all warmth and pure happiness. Sometimes she finds it incredible that living in this world, he can remain so pure, but he does. Maybe there's a magic inside of him as well, of a different kind.

She nods. "Then yes. I would love to marry you," she says, attempting to hold back other words that would ruin this and failing as they come bubbling out. "And live with you and I'd also like to help you write your music, if that's all right, I've been interested in that for a while…" All of the things that she has thought but not said in the past weeks because of the darkness based off of secrets that overtook her little by little, they burst out of her like fireworks, and it makes them both smile. He slides the ring onto her finger while she speaks, and it feels beautiful there, as if it is inexplicably right.

"Of course," he says, kissing the top of her head as they embrace.

"Would you like to hear the whole story?" she asks him, after she's done reeling off her plans and hopes. He nods.

And so she tells it to him, right there, spinning a tale of Gorgons and evil creatures and two secret societies and four friends and one girl who was lost, and most of all love and hope. To anyone else, she knows, it would sound far-fetched, but because of their faith in each other and his trust in her, to believe even the most fantastical tale, it is true, and she finds that more magical than anything in the Realms.

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_Because I wanted to write something fluffy today, and honestly Ann/Charlie is one of the fluffiest pairings in the books, so…I wrote two endings, one where she doesn't tell him and one where he doesn't accept her, but it didn't fit the whole fluffy idea, and besides, I like this ending far better. The title is from Vanessa Carlton's song 'Nolita Fairytale.'  
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